


All I Have

by schizoress



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Light Angst, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 01:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4858031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schizoress/pseuds/schizoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian opens his eyes to find himself alone, Tatiana is peering through the barred window into his room, expression as placid as ever, “You’re finally awake, detective.” Her voice hits him harder than anything as he recalls that intimate moment not as a memory of the previous night, but a dream that still haunts him, mocking him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Have

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old fic (nearly a year, soon) that I wrote before the first DLC ever came out. So I decided why not let it be my first fic posted to this site? Anyway, enjoy!

“Sebastian, we really- _ah_ -really shouldn’t do this” Joseph breathes, hands clawing for purchase against the old and worn wooden chest he’s been propped up against. He’s helpless against the hands that keep him pinned and it takes everything he has not to just give in right then and there.

“It’s not safe to- _oh_ ” He sputters and his face flushes scarlet, hips twitching when the older detective presses his entire body closer. He can feel Sebastian’s clothed erection straining against his thigh and all the air leaves his body. No protest comes when their lips slot together and he immediately opens his mouth when Sebastian begins licking at his lips and teeth.

This isn’t right, this isn’t okay; those monsters, creatures, _things_ –whatever they are, they are still patrolling the abandoned roads and fields outside of this rickety little shack. It doesn’t matter that Sebastian had shattered their skulls with his shotgun, it doesn’t make a difference that Joseph had bloodied his entire uniform hacking through their temples until they stayed down long enough to be lit on fire.

But the way Sebastian’s hands grip his hips, the fervor with which he presses his lips over any exposed patch of skin, the pure undiluted desperation of his actions compels Joseph to be complacent.

“Joseph, lift your hips.” He does as he’s told and is surprised to learn that during his haze of worry and lust-driven thoughts, Sebastian had managed to piece apart his blood-spattered uniform. The sound of fabric hitting the floor in a jumbled heap makes Joseph jump a little and he furrows his brow, frustrated at Sebastian’s suddenly careless actions.

“Be more careful or something will hear us,” He not quite scolds, voice still hushed but breath hitching as calloused hands dip under the hem of his shirt and push it up until it bunches awkwardly under his armpits. There’s a complaint building in the back of his throat, but he chokes on it the very moment he feel’s Sebastian’s mouth on his chest. His lips are rough but gentle as they ghost over Joseph’s skin, parting to blow warm puffs of air over sensitive areas, tongue swiping over flushed pink nipples. The touch is constantly fleeting, almost enough to make his partner scream in frustration for Sebastian to stop teasing if he wasn’t certain it would alert the monsters to where they were.

He doesn’t get to relish in the sensation for very long, however, because suddenly Sebastian’s at his neck, nipping and scraping and mouthing dark bruises over pale flesh. The man’s hands make quick work of undressing his lower half completely, leaving Joseph exposed in more ways than one.

“Seb, what’re you do–” The rest of his inquiry gets lost on his tongue and his hips rock forward into the terribly delectable warmth of his partner’s mouth. It’s a well known fact by now that Joseph lost all sense when Sebastian did this to him. He’d never know how or why this man was so fucking great when it came to giving head (hadn’t he been a married man with a child?) but every time he found the courage to ask he found himself speechless and writhing under mere examples rather than explanations.

The slick heat only stays for the exact amount of time it takes Sebastian to procure a source of lube from somewhere on his person and when two slick fingers slip between his cheeks to push past the tight ring of muscle that is hidden there, Joseph doesn’t even want to know what exactly to cold and slimy substance is.

All he knows is that there are two deliciously thick fingers stretching him open and he can barely keep himself upright, both hands moving to grip Sebastian’s shoulders (the only real leverage available to him) as a third finger is added. He’s not quite sure if it’s just his imagination, but it feels like Sebastian is hardly present, but the sudden stubborn brush of fingertips against his prostate rips that worry from his mind.

It’s not a moment later that Sebastian’s fingers slide out, the sound of a belt being undone and the messy but subtle rustle of clothes that follows sending thrills up Joseph’s spine.

He enters with one fluid movement and Joseph has to bite the heel of his hand hard to keep the noises bubbling up in his throat from spilling over, his back arching sharply as Sebastian bottoms out. The initial pain dulls, covered by an immense rush of pleasure that comes when the older man begins to move. There’s little time to waste being slow and romantic, Joseph knows this, but his heart still twists a little at the prospect of what these moments could be like had they just a little more time and privacy.

Joseph’s toes curl as Sebastian picks up the pace, the chest beneath them beginning to creak menacingly under their weight, “Seb- _ah_ -stian…” The younger detective tries to warn, but is only met with rougher thrusts and a relentless pounding of that bundle of nerves, his vision sparkling white and breath coming in uneven bursts.

“Seb, please, _ah_ , you need t-”

“ _Joseph_.” It’s only the second time since they’ve started that anything coherent has come from Sebastian, making Joseph’s hooded gaze snap open. But it’s not just the fact that his normally quiet partner (as of late, anyways) has decided to speak up that gets Joseph’s attention. No, it’s the tone, the desperation mimicking that of when they had begun.

“Joseph look at me,” And he complies, heart clenching at the way Sebastian’s voice strains, like he’s swallowed every emotion he’s ever felt and they’re all trying to claw their way back out of him. He can’t look for long, because he’s not used to seeing such raw emotion in his partner’s eyes, and he feels calloused hands pull his hips down harder when he finally rips his gaze away from the other man’s. He chokes off the scream that is his response, whether it was of pleasure surprise or pain he’s not entirely certain, but Sebastian speaks again, slowing his hips.

“I said _look at me_ , Joseph,” The emotion is clear in his voice, and he sounds pitifully distraught. His hands slowly drift up from pale hips to take hold of Joseph’s face, forcing him to turn his way. When their eyes meet it’s like a punch to the gut and everything they’re doing completely loses meaning because, fuck, Sebastian is pleading with him through eye contact alone and Joseph doesn’t know why.

He lets go of Sebastian’s shoulders and his hands move to cover the ones cupping his face, “It’s okay,” He whispers, turning his face into the palm of one hand, smiling lips brushing over Sebastian’s fingers in a chaste but well-meant kiss. “It’ll be okay, Seb, we’ll make it through.” Joseph isn’t quite sure what he’s saying or if there’s any truth to it, but he knows that it’s what Sebastian needs to hear.

Apparently he’s right, too, because the man huffs out a broken laugh and buries his face in the crook of Joseph’s neck, arms wrapping around to pull him even closer.

Sebastian starts moving again, just like that, lips latching onto Joseph’s neck and hips grinding up into him in a steady rhythm that has the younger detective writhing, positively desperate for release by the time Sebastian wraps a hand around his weeping length. “God, Seb, I-” He can’t articulate his thoughts into speech anymore and it’s more than obvious by the sudden lapse in rhythm on Sebastian’s part that he’s not the only one who’s close.

The end is all heavy breathing, curled toes and clenched fists as Sebastian’s hips stutter to a halt and Joseph’s back forms a pretty arc, the pair finishing one after the other and gasping for air that their lungs can’t hold.

“ _You’re all I have left_.” Joseph thinks he hears right before his vision whites out, their hands entwined.


End file.
